


Frostbitten Mornings

by theTwentyNineth



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Based on Headcanon, F/M, Implied sexy time, Rated: M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theTwentyNineth/pseuds/theTwentyNineth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are Jack's and Elsa's mornings-after like? Rated for safety and based on headcanon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frostbitten Mornings

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Sometimes he wondered if there was, or if there ever will be, a time when Elsa was  _not_  beautiful. Here he was watching her sleep beside him as the sun's light streamed inside her ice castle, breaking down into fragments of different colours at everything it touches, and he can't help but thank whatever higher power there is up there for having brought her into this world. Or more importantly, his world. She was beautiful and she was his and it hurt, it  _hurt_  so much inside, knowing that she thought herself as a monster. No matter, he thought, he'll be more than ecstatic to spend all eternity proving to her that she was never one or will ever be one.

She was sleeping on her side, facing him, her slim body somewhat curled and her hair had fallen out of her braid. She sighed and then stirred in her sleep, burrowing into him and he chuckled quietly, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. He was exhausted and sore from their activities the night before, but it was worth it to watch her sleep. She was worth everything. His eyes drifted down her bare skin and felt himself heat up slightly at the marks he left on her where he had touched, nipped, bit, kissed, worshiped her. He had no doubt that he too was covered by marks she had made on her own when she had accepted him, reciprocated him, teased him, returning whatever he gave her by a hundredfold.

They had found out earlier in their relationship that they both unconsciously left hints of patterned frost wherever they've touched the other in the heights of their passions. His frost crept and stuck to her skin in ornate, intricate designs, not unlike flowers, where he had loved her; from her neck to her collarbones where he had teased her; to the swell of her breasts and the creamy slenderness of her thighs where he had worshiped her with his teeth and tongue; to her palms, her wrists and her fingertips where his fingers had laced himself to her as he entered her, hips rolling and their mouths colliding themselves in a heated frenzy.

Her own frost formed themselves in complex, geometric shapes on his skin, sharp at the edges and kaleidoscopic in symmetry. Perfect, elaborate shapes that reflected her own beauty and the danger she thought herself to be. They imprinted on him where her own mouth and fingers had explored him; his neck, the hard flat planes of his chest and his stomach, down to the scratches she had made on his back and his hips when he had filled her again and again; when all she could have done was hold onto him and writhe beneath him until he brought both of them towards and over that edge.

Elsa stirred once more, snapping Jack from his reverie of last night, and all other nights for that matter. His frost on her skin glowed in different hues under the crystallized light of the sun and he smiled wryly to himself upon the realization that he was willing to sacrifice everything, blood, bone and sinew, for this girl. Just to be with her and protect her from the world that made her think she was nothing more than a monster. Heh, he thought, smirking. Whatever happened to working alone? North and the others will not be happy about this... But he'll think about that another day. Right now, he's going to kiss her on the nose.

He laughed quietly when she furrowed her brow and opened one eye. Her lips curved themselves into a smile when she saw him, all frost-bit as she was and blushed prettily. "Why are you up so early?" she asked him, yawning.

"'Why, good morning, Jack! And thank you for waking me up early so that I can continue my queen-ly duties this fine morning. And might I say, Jack, you look absolutely handsome for a person who's more than sore and exhausted to kingdom come! How do you do it?'" Elsa laughed and smacked him lightly on the arm at his impersonation of her.

"Ow," he said, kissing her softly. "Someone's sprightly. Funny, I made sure that, after last night, you were to stay immobile for at least another day from exhaustion." Elsa raised a brow before smiling teasingly at him. "Aha! I knew you were plotting something to keep me from my queen-ly duties!"

She sat up and it was her turn to bend down to kiss him, platinum hair spilling into a waterfall of silk from her frost-patterned shoulder. "Thank you for waking me up," she whispered down at him, smiling sincerely. "Do you really feel sore... after last night?" Jack grinned at how worried she actually sounded. How like her to get worried about him when crescent-moon bite marks, bruises and his signature frost patterns marred her own fair skin.

"No," he said, sitting up and taking her face in his hand. "I was only teasing you. Last night was amazing." She beamed at him as he ran his hand through her hair. He leaned in to kiss her fully, fingers finding her chin and the line of her jaw when she melted into him to return the kiss.

"Now," she exclaimed excitedly when they parted. "C'mon! I promised Anna that I would see her and Kristoff off for their honeymoon!" She pulled away the covers and promptly got up from the bed. Jack sat back on his palms against the bed with a smug smile on his face as he watched her move without her clothes on, while she picked up the maid-of-honour dress she wore the night before. There is no way that Elsa could ever be  _not_  beautiful, he concluded.

He was once again yanked out of his thoughts when Elsa, realizing that she was as naked as the day she was born, blushed a deep red and practically threw his own clothes at his face before hurriedly putting on her own dress. Yeap, he thought laughingly at her flustered state, feeling warmth spreading inside his chest at the sight of the frost on her skin that she did not even bother to thaw. Blood, bone and sinew were a small price to pay for all this and boy, would he pay it gladly if it meant he could continue to be with her.

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End file.
